Crossover Drabbles
by Cmdr. Gen. Marasco
Summary: What the title says. Three crossover drabbles with other universes. More chapters to come!
1. Steampunk

**A/N: Greetings my fellow Darwinists, Clankers, and all those who (like me) are somewhere in between. Before I actually start with the crossovers, I'd like to do a little explanation. **

**I will admit that I'm not the first person to do a crossover drabble pack involving Leviathan (I believe the story 10Tens beat me too it, twice, though the author seems to have deleted that chapter for some reason) but I figured it was too good an idea to just let die. That, and 1) I wanted to do crossovers with series that I enjoy, and 2) Its good practice for writing. I am going to be writing more for the Leviathan section. I may even write some Deryn/Alek smut at some point (because, so far, no one seems to have written any good Dalek lemons). **

**Additionally, the term "drabble" may not be 100 percent appropriate. Some of these stories will probably longer than the standard length of a drabble, but I'm not sure what else to call them. If anyone knows, please let me know.**

**Anyway, enough explaining; here's the actual stories. Hope you all enjoy these three crossovers. **

**Crossover Drabbles: Leviathan**

**Crossover Number 1:**

**Airborn by Kenneth Oppel**

"So, what about that one?"

"Where? On the right?"

"Yes. Just above the starboard docking clamp."

"Andromeda. Easy."

"Impressive."

Deryn snorted in response to the compliment, face pulling into a smile. Her companion in the airship _Aurora_'s forward crows nest, Cabin Boy Matthew Cruse, returned it. The two had been playing a spotting game with the constellations spread above them. Both were keeping a tie score, a fact that raised Deryn's already high impression of the boy. All things considered, they were surprisingly similar; both fatherless due to flying accidents. Both with mothers hesitant to let them in the air again. And both willing to do whatever it took to stay in the air.

In fact, the only real differences between them were that Matt was a civilian airman, was a Cabin Boy to Deryn's Midshipman, and Deryn had diddies.

Not that he knew that, of course.

"Alright, your turn Mr. Cruse", Deryn said.

"Whenever your ready, Mr. Sharp."

Deryn cracked another smile and leaned closer to the glass bubble that they stood under, scanning the sky for a good target to spring on Matt. Her search took her back towards the stern of the _Aurora_. As she turned, she spotted something that was _not_ a constellation, but of no less interest. Mainly, the airships' moving midship dorsal hatch hatch.

"Blisters, what's that?" She asked, pointing. Matt turned to follow her hand, and his eyes narrowed as he spied the unknown object.

"That would be my girlfriend Kate." He said, voice low. "Looks like she wants to take some pictures of the stars."

Sure enough, when Deryn looked again, she could see the girl was hauling a rather large camera and tripod out of the hatch with her.

"On the back of the barking ship?" Deryn gasped. "At this altitude? Is she daft?"

"Probably." Matt reached under his possition and grabbed a safety line from the storage drawer there.

"Should we...go get her?"

"Certainly. Though you don't have to come..."

"I'd rather, if it's all the same to you. I like going dorsal."

"Then lets go get her."

**Crossover Number 2:**

**The Mortal Engines Quartet by Phillip Reeve**

"I would assume your enjoying yourself here," Dylan told Alek. "Clanker tech everywhere and not a single barking beasite."

Alek, sitting in the window seat of the private airship he and Dylan had chartered, didn't immediately reply. Honestly, he _did_ like it here; the moving cities, the airships, the fact that he was just a commoner like Dylan due to the fact that Austria-Hungary had been effectively vaporised centuries ago by a conflict the locals called the Sixty Minute War and that same war made swords a common weapon...

"I would think you would be happy as well." He replied. "After all, these cities are like like your godless beasts, are they not? Didn't that disfigured girl say something about them _eating_ each other?"

"Aye." Dylan joined him at the window, looking out quietly. "She called it "Municipal Darwinism, I think."

"Survival of the fittest city," Alek muttered, easily translating the pseudo-Latin term.

Dylan simply grunted and leaned back in his seat.

From behind Dylan's seat came footstep. Moments later, the girl Alek had just been discussing appeared from the direction of the cockpit.

When they had first boarded their ship (Alek suddenly found himself remembering the name of it to be the _Jenny Haniver) s_he had introduced himself as "Hester". It wasn't very hard to remember who she was, considering the massive scar that crossed her face. It looked (to Alek) like a fencing scar gone wrong.

"You two might want to get in here." She said, jabbing his thumb back towards the cockpit he had obvious just come through. "We're coming up on Airhaven. Tom said don't wanna miss this."

Tom was the airship's pilot, ironically an Englishman like Dylan. Alek had expected them to hit it off immediately...but they hadn't. Instead, Alek found himself connecting better with him, while Dylan seemed more at ease with Hester. Perhaps it was the scarred girl's dislike of these...traction cities.

Lacking anything else to do, Alek stood. As he passed Dylan, he glanced at his friend.

The boy looked like he was sulking, crushing himself into the seat of his chair. With a sigh, he decided to let Dylan's anger burn itself out, and turned to follow Hester into the cockpit.

**Crossover Number 3:**

**Boneshaker by Cherie Priest**

So far, Deryn decided, her visit to the city of Seattle was NOT going as she had hoped. Though, ironically, she actually preferred this new twist on her trip to the original plans.

When Dr. Barlow had set her up for this, the idea had been for her to do a simple tour of the city and do a speech about her experiences aboard the _Leviathan_. See if she could get some of Seattle's large population of "modern women" to think about joining the fight against the Clankers. That was part of the deal she'd struck with the good Doctor when her secret had been outed; she could stay in the Air Service, but she couldn't be on the front lines. She was, basically, a recruitment tool.

So she'd gone to Seattle to start "readying the meat for the grinder", she had darkly titled it. But when she arrived, things had almost instantly gone downhill. Instead of the small hydrogen breather she'd been given a lift in dropping straight into the middle of city to massive fanfare, they were diverted by American Army Air Force aeroplanes to a dry landing field just outside the city limits. Apparently, several weeks ago some barking mad Clanker had tried to do something similar to what she was doing, and had managed to tear a good chunk of downtown Seattle with his massive tunneling machine. As if the property damage and small loss of life wasn't bad enough, the "Boneshaker", as the locals had named it, had released some kind of volcanic gas that was under the city. Anyone who breathed it died. And those that were REALLY unlucky died...and got _right back up again_.

The locals called them "rotters". Slowly, they were seeping into every corner of Seattle, killing everything in their path.

And currently, there was a large group heading towards them.

"Oi, Swankhammer, anytime you want to get that door open, now would be barking great!" Deryn shouted back over he shoulder. Behind her, one of the locals she had banded together with, Jeremiah Swankhammer, was currently trying to ram open a barred door. And it was working; every time Swankhammer threw his impressive bulk against it, the door would give a loud groan and wood dust would fly everywhere. Deryn couldn't help but think that somewhere in his life chains, Swankhammer had a bit of elephantine in him.

He wasn't the only local in the group; arranged around her were Briar Wilkes, the local sheriff, her son, Ezekiel, better known as Zeke, and a local boy about her age who had introduced himself only as "Chris".

It was Chris who she was currently kneeling next too. Her job currently was to keep feeding the Lewis machine gun he was holding ammunition, which it consumed at a rather alarming rate.

As if to prove her thoughts true, the Lewis ran empty, a loud _click_ emanating from the firing chamber.

"Shit, make it fast!" Chris barked. "We've got more rotters on the way!"

"Blisters!" Deryn swore. With fumbling fingers, she extracted another long belt of ammunition and managed to shove it into the gun.

Just in time; around the corner of the street they were on came a motley group of shambling forms, once alive, but now dead, yet still moving. They paused at the curb, as if waiting for something to pass by, then spotted the group of locals and Deryn. With inhuman groans and screams, they charged.

"Let 'em have it!" Chris howled, yanking the machine gun up off the ground quick enough for Deryn's fingers to get friction burns from the ammo belt. She had only a couple seconds to get down and cover her ears before the Lewis opened up again.

Now that she thought about it, Chris probably had some fabricated life chains in him too; how else would he be able to fire a barking machine gun by himself?

Around her, the two Wilkes's joined in, Briar firing a large repeating rifle and Zeke a small but obviously powerful magnum revolver. The rotters stopped dead as if they'd hit a brick wall. In twos and threes they fell, losing random body parts and spraying a greenish puss-like substance that smelled horrible everywhere.

Behind Deryn, there was a loud _crash_. Apparently , Swankhammer had managed to get the door open.

"Door's open, Miss Sharp." He said. Deryn couldn't help but smile. Even in the middle of battle, Swankhammer was still a courteous as ever.

"Fall back inside!" Chris ordered. "I've got this bastards locked down!"

Deryn didn't answer; she just ran. In seconds, she covered the distance between Chris and the door and threw herself inside. The rest of the group followed. First Zeke, then Briar, and finally Chris, still firing his Lewis at the approaching horde. The moment he was inside, Swankhammer slammed the door back into place and sealed it with a large couch. With a groan, Deryn sank down onto that same couch to catch her breath.

Yes, her trip to Seattle was NOT what she expected.


	2. Teen Fiction 1

**A/N: Hey guys. Bet you didn't think you'd hear from hear again. Well, so much for that. **

**Anyway, I've gotten a pretty positive response to my first three crossovers (though more reviews would be nice), so I've decided to write a couple more drabbles for you. I may also expand a couple into full-length stories, as there seem to be very few Leviathan crossovers out there. And the ones on this site are...lacking, in my experience. And some of the ideas I came up with are really just too good to waste. Not sure when I'll start posting them, but keep your eyes open for them. **

**Also, I'm open to suggestions for series to use. If you've got one you want me to do, write it in a review. Or PM, if you don't want to write a review for some reason. **

**Also, since I've run out of steampunk books to work with, starting this chapter these crossovers will include some other series. Hope you guys don't mind. **

**Anyway, without further ado, here's some more crossovers.**

**Crossover Drabbles: Leviathan**

**Chapter 2**

**Crossover Number 1:**

**His Dark Materials, By Philip Pullman**

"Pretty, ain't it?"

"Aye."

Deryn kept her eyes on the sky, more specifically the brilliant trails of the Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights, which were trailing above her. Her hands clutched the wicker basket she was leaning against hard enough for them to turn white. She focused even harder on the floating, glowing colors and not at the hot air balloons gas bag above her, as if the mere glance of her eyes would ignite it. That, or she'd spew over the side of the gondola and start crying like some daft lass.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Aye."

Truthfully, Deryn had every reason to be worried. This wasn't any ordinary hot air balloon; through some cruel twist of fate, the one vehicle that was going to the place to get her out of…wherever she'd ended up was the very balloon she'd lost her Da to. How it got here, she didn't know.

"You're lying."

"Oh?" Deryn glanced over at the person questioning her, the same one who'd suggested she board this living nightmare; Lyra Silvertounge of Oxford (as she'd introduced herself).

"Yes. I used to be a good liar myself, you know."

"Explains your last name, that's for barking sure."

This was the standard format for her conversations with Lyra. It wasn't that she didn't like the girl (though it certainly didn't help that she looked down on Deryn's clothing choices, which were still boyish even now). It was her entire world that Deryn didn't like. It felt…wrong. No Darwinists, a church that practically ruled the world…

And daemons. Those blistering daemons!

Deryn _still_ couldn't wrap her mind around them. Lyra had tried to explain it to her before, something about how Deryn's own was inside her or whatever. Like a soul or some other yakkum like that.

But all Deryn had been able to think, all she still thought, was that these things were talking animals that were able to reason. A major break in Darwinist law, to say the very least.

She knew it wasn't a break in this world, which had no Darwinists, but it still seemed wrong.

And she didn't even want to _think_ about the "armored bears" Lyra had mentioned…

"You aren't feeling fine, are you?" Lyra noted calmly. Deryn kept her eyes forward and her hands on the basket.

"No, I'm not barking fine. You happy?" she spat. Lyra pulled back slightly, surprised.

Good.

Deryn went back to staring at the sky.

_The__sooner__I__get__out__of__this__barking__madhouse__of__a__place,_ she thought, _the__better._

**Crossover Number 2**

**Uglies By Scott Westerfeld (Yes, the Same One Who Wrote Leviathan in the First Place)**

"That the best you got?" Deryn howled, slamming her foot down on the back of her hoverboard to lift it over a rock in her path. The board reacted smartly, soaring off the outcrop like it was ramp and propelling Deryn a good twenty feet down the river she soared above. "I thought this was going to be a barking challenge!"

She laughed in glee, the sheer joy of flight for a moment making her forget that she was running from someone. Or some_thing_; whatever was on her tail had obviously been human at one point, but certainly wasn't now.

It had been a girl, Deryn figured, like her. But now there was so much Clanker material inside its flesh that it was hard to tell.

Certainly on the outside, she looked normal. But David had told her the truth behind these...Specials. What they were. Fabs of the highest level of illegality.

Deryn glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, at the very edge of her vision, she could see her pursuer. She was catching up slowly, her board riding on both magnets and fans to Deryn's magnets only.

That was good. She needed to catch up. Couldn't make it look like she was going to get away, or the plan would never work.

But the girl following her obviously didn't know this part of the river. She kept slowing down to avoid the rocks Deryn simply jumped. Even if Deryn slowed down below a believable speed, she still wouldn't have caught up to her. And then the Smokies wouldn't catch the Special following her.

This wasn't going to work. She'd have to try something different.

It was time to go on the offensive.

With a slight pang of regret, Deryn leaned back on her board and slowed down, coming to an almost standstill. She spun around to face her pursuer, cupped her hands and shouted;

"Oi, Cutter! Slice this!"

The moment she finished, she kicked her board around and accelerated straight towards the girl behind her.

The distance closed quickly. Deryn's heart pounded in her chest. A hundred feet. Eighty. Fifty. Ten.

Deryn's hand closed around the handle of her recently acquired combat knife. The rubber felt good under her palm, fitting better than the handle of her rigging knife.

The Special closed. Deryn's eyes narrowed. In a single motion, she slid her knife from it's sheath and pointed the blade away from her, cutting edge out in front.

She barley had time to get a better grip on it before she and her pursuer crossed.

She had just enough time to glance at her targets face; black eyes and strange moving facial tattoos.

A face she knew from the picture David had shown her. _Tally__Youngblood_. David's girlfriend.

Contact with the Special came seconds after she recognized the Special, and it almost ripped the knife from Deryn's hand. But she held on, and managed to say on her board to boot.

Tally wasn't so lucky. As Deryn slewed to a halt, she could see her go tumbling off her board, crashing through the under-growth and snow around the river.

For a moment, Deryn thought she'd lost her, and this whole thing had been for nothing.

Then she noticed the blood trail.

Deryn grinned evilly and kicked her board into motion. It was time to finish the job.

**Crossover Number 3**

**Percy Jackson and the Olympians By Rick Riordan**

In her life, Deryn Sharp had done some crazy things.

She'd survived being pushed out of a flaming balloon.

She'd pretended to be a boy for several months and was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross while doing it.

She'd brought around the collapse of the Ottoman Empire and (unintentionally) Austria-Hungary.

And she'd help turn the son of one of the greatest Clanker leaders into a right proper Darwinist.

But none of those were as crazy as the current situation she found herself in;

Fighting an Americanized, half-human version of herself, with a knife, while around her the world practically tore itself apart, in an attempt to capture an American boy named Percy Jackson.

Certainly there were _some_ differences; the girl Deryn was currently fighting had the rather peculiar name of Annabeth Chase, and she was a demi-god, whatever that meant. She was also a little taller than Deryn, and more tan, and with grey eyes.

She was also barking good with a knife. The bronze-colored blade of which was now approaching Deryn's face.

Deryn dropped to a crouch, barley dodging the girl's jab. Had her hair been longer than she normally kept it, the knife would have sliced it clean off.

Her legs screamed in pain, and her lungs burned from all the constant fighting she'd been doing recently. She hadn't trained for this. She was an airman, not a front line solider.

But so far she'd managed to hold her own. She hadn't landed a blow on the girl, but she hadn't landed one on Deryn neither.

Annabeth swore in some language Deryn didn't know and jumped back, putting a yard or so of space between them.

"Snarf fab clart!" Deryn howled back, taking the time offered by the unexpected break to catch her breath.

This wasn't going to work, she realized. This girl was too good with a knife. Facing her with one was like stopping a phosphorous shell with a hydrogen breather; a recipe for disaster.

Deryn need to change things up.

Across the gap between them, Annabeth chuckled to herself.

"You aren't half bad...for a mortal." She said, smiling slightly. Deryn returned it.

"And you aren't bad...for a clart-soaked bum rag." As she replied, she let her grip on her knife go loose.  
>Silence filled the space between them again, one of those strange pauses that come from two fighters of equal strength and skill facing off. Deryn had seen it happen between Count Volger and Dr. Barlow when they'd sparred verbally. It made sense for the same thing to happen in actual combat.<p>

"Look, I'm sure you have a lot of stuff to do right now," Annabeth continued, looking back over her shoulder. Deryn followed her look to the hill behind them, where a rather attractive boy about Deryn's age was fighting off a horde of what could only be described as serpentinesques. Jackson. Her target.

"So how about we call this a draw and go our own ways?"

Deryn pretended to think, for a full minute.

"No barking way!" She howled. Even as she was shouting, she was throwing herself into a forward charge, knife tossed to her side.

Annabeth didn't see I coming. She barely had time to look surprised before Deryn drove her fist deep into the soft spot just under her perky diddies. Another thing that separated them; Annabeth's chest looked like she was carrying a pair of grenades in her shirt.

The girl dropped like a stone, winded. Deryn glanced at her, then up at the battle continuing on the hill behind their battlefield, then back at her. It didn't look like Annabeth would be getting up soon.

She ignored the recovering girl and walked towards the fight, retrieving her knife as she did so.

She had an American boy to capture.


End file.
